


Tough Days

by Danger_Zone24



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Kinda?, Lucky he has Mr Fix It Bond, M/M, Q had a bad day, There's tea involved, and piles of pillows and blankets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danger_Zone24/pseuds/Danger_Zone24
Summary: What it says on the tin... :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some photo I saw of Ben Whishaw in Mercury Fur and a couple different crochet/knitting discussions.

James dumped his keys and phone onto the dining room table on his way past to flick on the kettle.  Turning he looked around the messy flat. Something was off.

His eyes wandered over Q’s piles of unfinished gadgets, spare computer parts and blueprints, scattered around all over the place. Nothing was out of place, but that didn’t stop the uneasy feeling he had in his stomach. James leaned forward, bracing himself against the bench, his mind in overdrive.

The kettle switched off, triggering something in the back of his mind.

It was too quiet.

Q had rigged the flat with a sound system so that some sort of background noise was constantly going through out the place, regardless if he was at home or not. He had a similar set up at Q-Branch, and in his personal lab. Quietness annoyed him, made it difficult to think, to separate all the thoughts racing around his head.

Having a quiet flat worried James. He knew that it was very unlikely that speakers had broken because everything Q made was hard to break. That’s why he had to be more creative now in the way he lost or damaged the gadgets he got given. And as much of an insufferable, incorrigible git he was, James would never touch Q’s speakers.

So that meant that Q had turned it off himself and was hiding out somewhere in the flat.

Sighing, James reboiled the kettle and made the tea he had dubbed the ‘Fix A Stressed Q’ as it never failed to help relieve some of the tension and stress, before going off to find his wayward boffin.

After looking everywhere, he found a Q shaped lump in the middle of their bed, surrounded by what James presumed was all the blankets and pillows that they owned, or at least he hoped they owned.

He gave the mass an experimental poke. Smirking, he kept poking at it, whilst it wriggled aroun, until finally Q extracted himself enough to poke his head out, giving James a fierce scowl. 

“What’s the problem?” James asked as he handed Q the mug.

“There’s no problem,” Q mumbled.

James raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Is that why you’re here in bed not at work? Usually I have to drag you back here kicking and screaming after a hideous amount of hours.”

Q sighed, not much got past James and he knew that he wouldn’t let up until he had found out whatever was the problem.

“Make people stop staring at me. It’s so… so infuriating. It’s like no one’s ever seen a guy with a shaved head before. They stared because of the hair, and they stare because it’s gone. Honestly, just make them stop. It’s either that or it’s because my ears are funny.”

“No. No, that’s why they stare at me. Your ears are perfectly fine.”

“I may just relocate and work from here.”

“We could, you know, learn to knit or crochet together…”

“How’s that going to help?” Turning his head, Q frowned at James.

“You can make some pretty interesting hats. It’ll give people something to actually look at and it’ll also keep your head and ears warm. Which is something else you’re having a problem with I take it.”

“How’d you guess?”

“My scarf is around your head… Have you been out like that?”

“No… Maybe, I dunno… Oh no…” Going beet red Q made grabby hands at his computer on the nightstand as he shoved his mug back at James.

Several minutes of furious typing later Q groaned and dove underneath the covers again.

James managed to get a hold of the laptop before it tumbled off the bed, glancing at the screen as he closed and stored it away.

He had to wrestle with Q for a little while so he could pull back the covers enough for him to get into bed and snuggle with the boffin.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Bad? Bad? You try going to work in your boyfriends pyjama pants and a sweatshirt from his navy days,” huffed Q as he rolled onto his side, twisting his arms and legs with James’.

“Didn’t you always tell me you could do more damage than me, sitting in your pyjamas before your first cup of earl grey? What’s wrong with proving that?”

“And I did too, I only had my first cup around midmorning and that was after an early start solving at least 20 zillion problems you Double-O’s caused AND designed, completed and tried several new prototypes that I know you’ll somehow break just by looking at them… But work, people, staring…”

“Tell you what, do you want me to come in tomorrow for my debriefing wearing those Doctor Who pyjamas of yours? We can make another scarf, maybe one like the fourth Doctors. Oooh and matching Dalek beanies as well!”

“Don’t pin those pyjamas on me. They’re yours and you know it, you closet nerd.”

“Shut it, I don’t want everyone to know.”

Q chuckled, “They’ll all know tomorrow anyway. Just promise me, you won’t go running around destroying my gadgets whilst yelling exterminate.”

“You know I try my hardest to listen to you, don’t you?” James deadpanned as he kissed Qs forehead.


End file.
